You Know My Name
by scribe4hire
Summary: A series of one shots charting the relationship both past and present of James Bond  played by Daniel Craig  and Miss Moneypenny, the woman who knows him better than he knows himself,but who herself is an enticing, surprising mystery.
1. Chapter 1

**IAN FLEMMING AND EON OWN 007. STORYLINE IS MINE**

**AN: Someone famous once said, 'I can resist everything but temptation.' The same can be said for me and a certain blonde, blue eyed Mr Bond. This one shot and any that might follow are MY interpretations of James Bond as played by Mr Daniel Craig. The Moneypenny in this story and the history they share, are also my own creations. Thank you for taking the time to R/R, hope you can find something to enjoy.**

**You Know My Name was the theme to Casino Royale, written and performed by Chris Cornell.**

**YOU KNOW MY NAME**

Desperate to try and escape the distorted and nightmarish images that had made sleep impossible for the third, or was it fourth night in a row? Bond had begun to walk.

He didn't know or care where he was going, he just wanted to inflict enough physical exertion upon his already aching muscles, that when sleep did come again, exhaustion would ensure it was dreamless. Bond knew that he could have created the same effect, by downing the rest of the bottle of Grey Goose he had in his fridge, but he had made a promise to himself early on in his career, that he would never allow himself to become reliant on booze to ease his troubled mind. And it was a promise that he had, baring those hellish months following Vesper' death and the end of the Quantum affair, kept.

The creeping glaziers splintering into barren rock on the coast of Greenland, the undulating series of verdant falls of the Iguaçu Falls on the border of Brazil and Argentina, the majesty of the Northern Lights. Bond had seen them all at one time or another. And whilst their beauty could not be denied, there was a part of him that thought the sight of the sun rising slowly over Tower Bridge, bathing the already busy water in a dusky pink and gold glow, was equally as breathtaking.

He had been away from home for too long. As despite the places he was required to travel to, sometimes for weeks or months at a time, Bond always had and always would consider England, London as his home. The place he had sworn to protect from threat. But after the Keyrani debacle, he had begun to wonder, if an oblivious Queen and judgemental and increasingly hostile Country was enough of a motivation to continue risking his life.

It wasn't as if anyone would miss him when he was gone. Double Os or 'blunt instruments' like him, as a rule, had very short life expectancies. And for the first time in Keyrani, Bond had felt that he had come perilously close to bending that rule as far as it would go. Bond was sharp, fast ruthlessly brutal when necessary, but he was tired. Emotionally and physically. The grief, the sheer pig headedness that had fuelled him after Vesper' death, after Agent Fields death, after Mathis' death...it was fading and fast.

And for the first time in a long time, as he had lain in the darkness night after night, with only his own tortured mind for company, James Bond was afraid.

He did not want to reach the end of his life without having been more, meant more than a tally of kills in a file. A memory that M would raise a glass to now and then. Bond wanted, needed someone to see, make the effort to look behind the bullshit.

It was a terrifying feeling, especially after the soul destroying pain he had gone through with Vesper, but it was one he could no longer deny.

Bond needed to let someone in. He needed someone to care for and for someone to care about him.

Before it was too late.

"I saw the light on."

She didn't speak.

Because she knew that there were no words that could even begin, to soothe the maelstrom of emotions she could see reflected in his tired blue eyes. And because she wasn't sure exactly what she would say if she did. Instead, Moneypenny simply took Bond's hand and lead him upstairs.

"You need to rest James." She said finally, as she positioned him by the side of the spare bed and began to ease his heavy woollen coat from his shoulders. Ignoring his bitter snort of humourless laughter at her words. Once the coat had been removed and carefully draped over a chair, Penny began work on his shirt.

The well defined hard planes of his chest, which were covered in a painful map of bruises and cuts plus, the almost heartbreakingly weary look in his eyes, which were following her every moment with almost laser like intensity, told Penny that the man standing before her was no longer James Bond the boy. And yet, as she looked deeper, ran her fingers lightly over the barely visible scar at the top of his left forearm, gained from falling in through a dormitory window. The twenty years that had elapsed since they had last been in a position like this one, seemed to have fallen away.

She had her James back again, if only for a moment.

He had been her first real kiss, her first lover and her first broken heart.

And for a long time afterwards, she had hated him.

Hated him for being like all the rest, for promising the world and then casting her aside, when someone prettier, thinner, more exotic and alluring had come along.

But as she had sat beside him in the public gallery of Court Number 1 at the Old Bailey, those laser like blue eyes never leaving Richard Keele, the man responsible for making and delivering the bomb that had killed not only his parents, but twelve others, she had forgiven him.

James Bond was a broken man. Had been shattered the moment that bomb had gone off. And whilst his godfather Sir Thomas Crispin paying for him to attend Clear Mount, one of the most prestigious private schools in the country and giving him a generous allowance and an account at a Saville Row Taylor had been meant to give him the 'start in life' his parents had intended. Penny had realised that James would never really start 'living' his own life, until he realised that he was his own man and stepped out of his father's shadow.

That was why she had almost cried when he had first appeared on her door step in his Naval Uniform. James liked the sea, he liked to sail, but he was not a Navy man. His father had been however. And James had been determined to make both his father and Sir Crispin proud, to repay the effort and money that had been spent on him.

Penny shuddered slightly as she remembered the last time they had seen each other. Penny had been just about to get into a cab headed for the station and her return to Oxford, when she had felt James catch her arm.

"Leave a light on for me heh Pen?" he had said with a soft smile.

James had been due to embark on his first tour of duty on a destroyer the following day, and during the long breaks between proceedings had been regaling her with naval stories and traditions. Including the one where sailor's wives or loved ones left a light burning in the window to guide them home.

"Always." She had replied, her fingers ghosting lightly over his cheek. She had always been thankful, that she had managed to hold back her tears until the cab had moved off.

Penny had known that James was working for MI6, almost the moment she had arrived, the through vetting process having discovered their past connection. And she had also quickly learnt that James' name was the byword for ruthless efficiency, rule breaking and fantasy amongst the secretariat. But after getting over the initial shock, Penny had decided to leave James and her feelings for him, firmly in the past.

She had a life and career of her own to worry about. It was true that none of her subsequent relationships had given her quite the same feelings as her relationship with James had, but she had some nice, decent men in her life. Whose only problem was, that they couldn't, despite their initial protestations cope with her career.

Whilst she may have started off in the 'typing pool' her language and creative skills had seen her move into the 'legend' department pretty quickly. Whilst certain health problems, had meant she was unfit for service in the field, Penny had always felt that as agents were carrying the passports, papers and back story's she had so meticulously put together for them. There was a part of her out there 'doing her bit for Queen and Country' as S, the retired head of section had put it.

The first time she had been required to create a legend for Bond or 007 as he was officially known, she had promptly sprayed her keyboard and computer screen with coffee.

For six years she had managed to navigate the corridors of Vauxhall Cross without seeing him. She had heard about his operations, his close calls. She had stood her heart threatening to burst from her chest, listening as Bond had called in from Montenegro saying that he had been poisoned. His heart had stopped for thirty seconds, hers had taken weeks to start beating properly again.

She had wanted to seek him out when she had heard what had happened with Vesper Lynd. Bond's resignation had barely hit M' in-box before it was it halfway round the building. They had all sniggered at the notion of James Bond in love. He enjoyed his job, his life, he enjoyed being able to take his pick from some of the most beautiful women Penny had heard the gossips insist. But she knew that there was a part of James Bond, who loved, who thrived on being loved and cared for, and having someone to do the same for.

Had she been jealous?

The weekend that followed her hearing about his resignation had past in tear soaked alcoholic oblivion. Penny hadn't been exactly sure why she was crying, for, what could have been, what she deep down had wanted, for what James had lost and how she knew it would hurt him, or the fact she could do nothing to help him.

Except give him a fighting chance of staying alive.

The Keyrani situation had been a complicated joint operation with the CIA, which had required Penny and her team to work overtime on a series of legends for the agents that had been involved. Whilst Penny had relished the challenge, she had not appreciated the interference from the CIA man, who could still not believe that someone of her age, who was also a woman, could be in charge of such a department.

Three screaming rows, two nights out drinking and four pretty decent shags later, they had come to an understanding. She had been in her office, trying to finish up some last minute details before heading to a 'brainstorming' session with Quinn the yank, when she had seen James again.

She had been stood on a stool in a cocktail dress and high heels, muttering about doing painful things to the new recruit who had placed the printer cartridges on the top shelf when her foot had slipped. However instead of ending up in a painful heap on the floor, two strong hands had appeared round her waist to steady her. Looking over her shoulder at her saviour had almost caused her to fall again.

It had had given her a small thrill to see the look of surprise and appreciation on his face as he took her in.

"Penny" he had gasped.

Over the years she had been called many things variations of her first name Jude, Judy, J, the more formal Miss Moneypenny or just Moneypenny, but the only person who had ever been allowed to call her Penny following her mother's death, without receiving a withering stare, was James.

"007"

She had not meant to respond in such a formal and clipped tone and had hated seeing the flicker of hurt that had flashed in his eyes. But Penny had known that she had had to at least try, and maintain the protective wall she had built around her heart where he was concerned, especially when they were both facing such an important and possibly deadly situation. Her resolve had been tested almost immediately, when seeing her wobble as she took his hand and attempted to climb down from the stool, he had rested his large hands securely on her waist and lifted her down, holding her still as she had gotten her bearings.

To be so close to him after so long, to feel those arms that had always made her feel so safe, to feel those blue eyes fixing her in a gaze that felt like it was melting her bones.

"_What I need to know Miss Moneypenny is whether you can remain professionally detached enough to concentrate on the task at hand, now that you and Bond have renewed your acquaintance." _

A less than pleased M had demanded of me a week later. Penny had found out from Mitchell, M' current private secretary, that James had been called in for a particularly vocal debrief, two days after our meeting, regarding something he had done or rather not done, on another assignment he had under-way.

"You don't need to worry about me..." Penny had assured her, earning herself an intense and rather disconcerting stare.

"Glad to hear it. I just wish I felt the same were true of Bond. Seeing you again, has unsettled him for want of a better word. And I need him focused on this damn Keyrani affair, especially with the American's peering so closely over our shoulder. I do not need a jealous and frankly little unstable Bond threatening to turn the CIA' Mr Quinn into a jigsaw puzzle."

Bond knew there was nothing sexual in Penny's touches, but he couldn't contain the soft sighs that escaped him as her hands, brushed over his chilled skin. It was as if he could feel not only the heat of her small soft hands, but also the genuine concern and compassion in each touch, deep in his core.

"Sit." She commanded and he obeyed, like the confused and exhausted little boy he felt himself to be at that moment. He watched as Penny dropped to her knees in front of him and began removing his shoes and socks.

Why had it taken him so long to see what a beautiful woman she really was? Physically, she may not have been as obviously attractive as the women that usually caught his eye, although he had to admit, she had truly blossomed from the awkward and slightly plump teenager he had known all those years ago. Her almost razor sharp cheek bones and large expressive green eyes, made her face striking to look at and her body had become sensuously curvaceous. But what had caught his eye most and caused his lips to twitch into the almost alien feeling sensation of a smile, was the tumbling mass of curls. Reaching out a hand, he found them to still be damp.

"Was about to start straightening them when you knocked." Penny said as she finished what she was doing and sat back on her heels to better observe him. Bond found himself frowning as he remembered how she had been teased about her unruly curls and puppy fat by the other boys at Clear Mount. He included at one stage Bond thought ruefully.

But then, he had seen the real Jude Moneypenny. Not the Headmaster's daughter who had to be polite to the hundreds of boys that passed through the school year after year. The Jude who had had to keep her head up, mouth shut and tears in check, as she had run the gauntlet of cat calls, jeers and clumsy physical passes that filled her time back at the school.

He had seen the Jude who had cleaned his cuts and gone to bat for him with her formidable father when he had been caught fighting with boys who enjoyed tormenting him over his orphaned, 'charity case' status. He had seen the Jude who had coached him through the seemingly impossible to grasp Shakespeare and Latin. Who had sometimes physically, dragged him out of his dormitory during those seemingly endless holidays, when everyone else had gone home.

He had ended up being a complete bastard to her. His head being turned by the power his Naval Cadet and then officer uniform had given him with women, both those of his own age and older. And yet, she had turned up the court to offer him support as he had seen the man responsible for his parents death sentenced to life. Bond knew that her friends, her family, had accused her of being weak for doing that, he had thought the same if he was honest, mistaken her kindness for weakness. But time and experience had taught him, that her ability to withstand some truly awful events in her life, he had needed to walk away and pound out his frustrations on a punch bag after reading her file, whilst still having the courage to open up her heart and trust, to give, was her incredible strength.

Others however, like Nick Quinn, did not know these things. He was looking for a pleasurable distraction for a few weeks, before he returned home to his wife and three children. Bond knew that what he had said and almost done to Quinn was the very definition of hypocrisy, but he had been unable to stop himself. Unable to silence that voice of so long ago, that had defended Penny's virtues to his sneering so called friends. And of course, it had caused her to literally storm back into his life, cornering him the underground parking structure, she had stood in front of his car, grim faced, hands on hips until he had apologised.

"_I am a grown woman now James, not some shy little teenager that needs defending from brain dead morons. I am believe it or not, capable of fighting my own battles and deciding who I will and won't fuck..."_

The last word had been deliberate and had the desired effect of driving him crazy. The word coming from her mouth, the images it created in his mind, the guilt had all felt so wrong. She had been right he had no right, to have behaved the way he had. But seeing her again after so long, remembering what they had had despite their young ages, the happiness, and the peace she had given him. Seeing her strength now, what she had become. Seeing someone who even knowing everything he was, everything he had become, still cared. It had been the look in her eyes, the genuine concern and warmth he had seen when he had asked her again to keep a light on for him and her reply of always, that had gotten him through more than one interminable night in Keyrani.

It was that look, that strength, her light that he had without even really realising it followed as he tried to fight his way out of the darkness that was threatening to engulf him. He had been scared, truly scared that she would shut the door in his face, consign him, what they had to history. And he knew that she still could, that her concern may only be one of a friend, who was worried by his deathly pale haggard face and shaking hands.

"I'll leave you to do the rest...bathroom is through there..." Penny said quietly, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Stay...please" he said shooting out a hand to catch hers. Bond hated hearing himself sound so pathetically weak, but he was just so damn tired, so scared of facing the darkness and the horrors within it again, facing them alone.

When she paused, Bond took his chance to pull her a little closer until finally, she was standing between his legs running her hands gently through his hair as he gazed up at her.

"Oh James, what have they done to you?" she sighed softly.

"Say it again..." Bond pleaded as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"What?" she asked in confusion

"My name...not Bond, not Commander, not 007, but my name" he asked, spitting out his various titles as if they tasted too disgusting to even speak.

"Your name is Bond...James Bond. And that is nothing to be ashamed of, because James Bond, the James Bond that I knew...he is a good man. And although he has done, seen some horrible things, I know the good man is still in there. I know that my James is still in there..." Penny said laying a soft kiss to his forehead.

What was she doing?

Losing him again was going to hurt so much more this time. They hardly knew each other as fully formed adults and they had been through so much, since they had last seen each other. But she as she had told him, she just knew that his good heart was still in there. She knew that her James was still in there.

"Sleep now." She said quietly as she lay down on her side beside him and began to gently stroke his face. He had reached a level of exhaustion that would have caused most men to collapse long ago, but she could see in his eyes, that he was still fighting against his body and its need for rest.

"You are safe here James..."

The look on his face had been so heartbreaking, she had found herself moving closer to him without even realising it, opening her arms and pulling his head down to rest in the crook of her neck, where she felt, rather than heard, the soft whimper and gentle sobs that shook his frame and finally carried him off to sleep.

A quick glance at the clock told Penny that they had both been asleep for just over two hours, before James had begun to cry out and try to defend himself against a foe only he could see.

Penny had high enough security clearance, to have learnt that the Keyrani operation had been a brutal and bloody fuck up from start to finish, that had cost 6 three good agents and the CIA five. James had been in hospital for over a week when he had returned, recovering from both internal and external injuries. And whilst his body was apart from a few of the more jagged scars, almost healed, his mind was not.

What the fuck had that bastard General Quasi done to him? Penny raged silently to herself as she tried to wake James and avoid blows from flailinglimbs. Finally, unable to bear the sightof him thrashing and crying in agony any longer, Penny had taken a risk. Moving herself, she had positioned herself astride him and used all of her weight positioned in key areas to pin his arms by his side. She knew she would not be able to hold him for long, especially as his body was slicked with cold sweat, but she hoped she could manage to wake him.

"James...JAMES WAKE UP...JAMES YOU ARE DREAMING...YOU'RE SAFE JAMES. YOU ARE SAFE HERE...I'M HERE...PENNY...YOUR PENNY." She had said loudly and firmly. It took a moment, but finally he began to calm, began to stop fighting against her.

"Penny...Penny left a light on for me... to guide me home." he mumbled as his eyes began to open more fully and focus.

"Always my darling... always..." Penny whispered roughly.

Of all the things that had gone wrong on the Keyrani operation, of all the horrors he had seen, James' nightmares always returned to those seemingly endless moments before Felix had arrived. The moments when General Quasi' psychotic son had strapped Bond's battered bruised and bleeding body to a table in the small, fetid room and began to administer his own versionof death by a thousand cuts. Even now, months later, Bond could still feel the searing pain of the salt being thoroughly rubbed into every wound. He could still see Karim' flaccid face twisted in grimace of almost sexual pleasure as he loomed over him, informing him in graphic medical detail, exactly where he was going to cut next and how much it was going to hurt.

Bond had tried to tune him out, tried to focus, but the burning, mind numbing pain, the gut churning stench of his breath, the feel of spittle landing on his face had kept pulling him back to reality. That was till tonight. Tonight, all Bond could hear when the distorted face had opened his mouth was;

"You're safe James. You're safe here; I'm here...Penny...Your Penny..."

The hands that were touching him, were not trying to harm, to hurt, they were trying to comfort, to protect him. The cold, dead, black eyes were replaced by dazzlingly bright green ones that were full of hope, safety and the peace he craved.

"Penny...Penny left a light on for me... to guide me home."

"Always my darling...always..."

And when Bond had finally managed to open his eyes, to focus, there she was using everything she had in her slight frame to try and comfort him, protect him. And as the early morning sunlight streaming in through a chink in the curtains caught her hair, he had never seen anything more beautiful or so fragile. And yet he had never felt so safe.

Reaching up, Bond let his fingers gently ghost along her cheek and twist in her hair.

"I'm sorry. I...I should go"

Yes you should.

This is crazy.

What the hell am I doing? Penny raged silently to herself whilst reaching up to cover his hand, which was now cupping her cheek, with her own. Penny's sigh became almost a whimper as she saw all her own confusion reflected in his eyes.

"But for you to leave...that would require me moving. And, to be honest James...I really don't think I can..." Penny chuckled softly, desperate to lighten the mood if only for a minute, desperate to hold onto the feel of his touch just for a minute longer.

James looked confused for a moment, before he saw how her thighs which were either side of his stomach were shaking with the effort of keeping him pinned.

"I can imagine a grip like the one you have on me at the moment, takes some muscle control." He teased but he was genuinely impressed by her strength.

"My personal instructor at the gym was Brazilian, used to roll cigars on her thighs...taught me a few things."

"Is that so? Now that..." James began to say, before using his own considerable strength to sit up, wrap his arms protectively around Penny's back and roll them so that she was lying flat on the mattress, allowing him, to loom over her. "Is something, I would very much, like to see..." he breathed.

God she was beautiful.

"Well, she only lives down the..." the rest of her sentence was cut off by Bond as he claimed her mouth, a little roughly, with his own. She whimpered softly in surprise against his lips, but did not push him away, preferring instead to snake her arms around his neck as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

Bond found that it was his turn to moan, when Penny began with surprising skill, to respond, to engage his probing tongue in a battle for dominance of the kiss, whilst allowing the fingers of one hand to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and the other to begin moving down his back.

Bond had forgotten, just how much of a turn on, kissing could be. But his body he found, despite its exhausted state, had not. He began to let a little of the weight he had been supporting on the arm beside her head, fall upon her as he pillowed his body against her own, closing the already small space between them.

Penny's whimper became a moan when she finally, reluctantly, pulled away in need of air, and felt James' need for her pressing against her thigh.

Oh God.

The pride and pleasure she felt at having caused this reaction in him after all this time, her body's almost painful need to continue touching him, for him to continue his almost torturous exploration of her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts.

Ok, how the hell had he gotten her nightshirt open, with one hand?

With that dangerous mouth and tongue of his, was dampened when her fingers found one of the many wounds that mapped his back, causing him to hiss in pain

"This...we shouldn't be doing this. You...you need to rest...I'm meant to be looking after you..." Penny sighed as her body arched up towards his still moving hands of its own accord.

"You are Pen...you are...you, you're light, your touch...it's the only thing stopping me from going under... I need you." James rasped as he positioned himself directly above her, his hands either side of her head. The room was now bathed in bright sunshine, but the light in James' eyes, that gave them an almost frightening intensity, seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, from that place where we hid all our truths, all our greatest fears.

Oh James

My poor broken man, what the hell have they, this oblivious and ungrateful fucking government and all of its double dealing and deceit done to you? Penny raged silently to herself as she wrapped her limbs almost protectively around him, letting him guide them both, to the edge and much needed oblivion

There were no more words after that, just deep sighs and moans of need, of want, whimpers of the intense relief they both felt as they found the reconnection and peace in each other they both so desperately needed.

It had been years, another life time, but their bodies seemed to have perfect recall of the moves they had learnt so many years ago, to this most tender and intimate of dances. And although Penny knew she could, probably was placing herself in the path of pain and suffering when James had found the strength to replace the armour he hid behind, it was a risk she was willing to take.

Not for Queen or Country.

But for the spy she would always love.


	2. For Your Eyes Only

**EON Productions and the Fleming Estate own all rights to James Bond 007. The plot line is mine.**

**I'd like to thank those who have taken the time to read and rate my first steps into the land of Bond Fic. Whilst reminding them that this is not cannon Bond, it is how I see James Bond as played by Daniel Craig. That said I hope you are able to find something to enjoy.**

**FOR YOUR EYES ONLY**

Bond could not suppress the muttered curses that escaped him as the harsh call to prayer rent the peace of the Batari dawn, dragging him reluctantly from an already fitful sleep. The sun had barely dragged itself above the tiled rooftops, but already the air was heavy and thick with the conflicting smells wafting up from the nearby souk.

Peeling his leaden limbs from the sweat soaked sheets of the roll out bed that was not designed for a man of his height, but which had been a more appealing alternative than the matt covered floor which seemed to be alive with the vermin that had taken up residence in the bales of material stacked in the corner of the room, Bond moved over to the window. He took a minute to observe the white robed men that were moving quickly along the warren of narrow streets that stretched out below him, before moving back inside and attempting to wash away at least the top layer of sweat and grime clinging to his body in the nearby sink.

After sluicing his face and arms, Bond took a moment to look at himself, in the clouded and mould edged mirror tacked precariously above the large sink that was usually used by the young women who worked in the sweat shop three floors below, to dye the fabrics that became the scarves, tunics and capes sold in the nearby souks.

Bond looked like what he was, a man pulled from sleep at ridiculous times, to spend seemingly endless hours observing and second guessing the every move of a man who, as last night had proven, was far more aware of the scrutiny he was under by not just MI6 but also a less than happy Felix Leiter.

"_Of all the bars in all the world... why do I get the feeling that my Arabian Nights are about to be filled with angry men with guns and very large knives, rather than pretty girls wearing seven veils?" _ Felix had grumbled shortly before a very large and angry man, had attempted to convey Ali Frezali's, the target of their surveillance's compliments, with a real and incredibly sharp scimitar. Thankfully, the blow had done more damage to Bond's shirt rather than his shoulder.

The same could not be said for his knees, which were beginning to sting from his rough landings and scrabbles for grip on the various tiled roofs and stone walls that he had been forced to traverse last night in his attempt to escape Frezali's men.

Bond wasn't sure whether it was the oppressive heat, his exhaustion or the simple fact that he had recently turned another year older, but his body, despite the hours of work he put in to keep it in prime condition, was rebelling painfully against the brutal physical abuse it had endured last night.

What he wouldn't give to be stretched out on Penny's bed now happily helpless, as her soft but incredibly strong hands eased the tensions in him whilst almost reverently, mapping and soothing the emotional pain and hurt behind the physical scars that spanned his body with her touch and softly whispered words of...

Bond wasn't sure whether the young girl's cry was caused by the almost deafeningly loud crash the chair had made when it toppled to the floor as he snatched his gun from the holster hanging over its back, or the fact that he was pointing a Walther PPK at her chest. Either way, the girl and she was little more than a teenager, was now standing in the doorway large brown eyes wide with fright. Before Bond could say anything however, a man's harsh voice from somewhere below, sent her fleeing back down the hall in a rustle of skirts and jangle of bracelets.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion Mr Bond, but the girls will soon be here to work. Alima's job is to sort the fabric..."

"Of course...has there been any word from London?" Bond muttered as he ran a hand over his face and pulled on one of the imitation Ralph Lauren shirts he had been given last night to replace his own ruined Armani one.

"Yes...I received word about an hour ago." Hari, the owner of the sweatshop and material emporium and long time six asset and safe house owner in Batari said with an almost childishly excited smile, as he thrust the latest model Blackberry in Bond's face. Glancing at the screen, an already slightly bemused Bond was met with the sight of Hari's Facebook page.

Amongst all the Farmville and Mafia Wars requests on his page, Bond saw a post in Arabic that had been liked by one person and commented on by someone called Scheherazade of all things.

"What does...Miss Scheherazade say?" Bond asked, unable to stop the wry smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

"That she can't wait to meet my old friend and maybe do a little business of her own with him..." Hari chuckled with an almost theatrical jiggling of his eyebrows.

"Once of course, we, and of course M, have concluded our business...which we should be able to do...in about ten minutes? My son Salim will bring back an I-phone for you from temple. That will you allow you to have some face time with M. Frezali is a well connected man, we could not take the chance of him using his contacts in the Media Development Department to monitor internet traffic. You will be able to keep the phone afterwards...just I beg of you my friend, start playing angry birds...you will never again do any work." He guffawed loudly as he disappeared back down the corridor.

"Whilst we had hoped that you and Mr Leiter could have kept Frezali under surveillance for a little while longer, we have gathered enough information to establish who is responsible for the leaks inside both the British and American embassies."

"So glad to be of service." Bond grunted as he attempted to focus on the image of M on the phone's screen and crick is stiff neck.

"I assume you would like me to go and fix these leaks." Bond said, past caring that his tone was almost childishly pleading.

" Not for the first time, you assume wrong 007. Your job was always to observe, Frezali."

"Whilst acting as the tethered goat"

"I'm sorry 007, I didn't quite catch that? Were you questioning the parameters of your job description?"

"Perish the thought."

"What happens next to Mr Frezali or the embassy officials in his employ is now a matter for Mr Leiter and his superiors in Washington. We believe that it their man that was bought first by Frezali and then coerced his lover in our embassy, to join him. Between the two of them, they have allowed Frezali to slip under the radar and conduct meetings with some people both Washington and White Hall would have very much liked to be privy too. Anyway, I need you back here, not least to deal with the rather large mountain of expense claims that have found their way onto my desk. The embassy and its staff have been compromised and until Mr Leiter can interrogate the two members of staff fully, I cannot risk using any other of our established assets being blown coming to your assistance."

"Sorry to be such an inconvieniance." Bond growled to himself, but judging by the abrupt rising of M's eyebrow and the almost twitch of her lips, she had heard him.

"So, I have sent an agent that is relatively unknown in Batari now, but still knows her way around and how to conduct herself, to deliver you fresh travel documents, that will not be being watched for as your old ones are."

"Would that be Miss Scheherazade?" Bond mused, hating to hear the almost hopeful tone in his own voice. He was exhausted both physically and mentally and he knew himself well enough to know, that for him the most effective relief, was to spend time enjoying the company of a woman.

And whilst nothing physical would happen. The last few months with Moneypenny, had spoilt him for the intensity of sex with someone that he truly did care for, he was hoping that spending time enjoying the warmth that was unique to spending time in female company, would help him relax.

"Indeed. You are to meet her at the Casablanca bar...yes I know, who said originality was dead." M remarked dryly in response to the unspoken retort on Bond's lips. "In the new Quarter this evening, you'll be staying there with Miss Scheherazade until your flight tomorrow afternoon..."

"The situation here is precarious enough M I really do need to be stuck babysitting..." Bond began to grumble.

"Miss Scheherazade is more than capable of looking after herself Bond. In fact, I'll think you'll be surprised..." M said cryptically, cutting the connection before Bond had time to react.

As was often the case in countries like Batari, there wasn't so much a gap between rich and poor as a yawning and thoroughly depressing chasm. The traditional stone buildings and maze of market stalls, hagglers and beggars that populated the Old Town, looked as if they belonged to an almost entirely different country from another time when you emerged blinking into the neon lit steel and glass metropolis of the New Quarter.

Whilst it did risk enraging Frezali who was now both anxious as to the possible threat to his inside information from the embassy's and furious that his own expensive security had failed to spot that Bond and Felix had been watching him for almost as long as they had, Bond had agreed with M, that the safest place for him to hide until his flight the next day was in plain sight. As it would be the last place that Frezali would expect him to be. And so, it was with a well practiced, faux confident air that Bond strode into the Casablanca Bar.

Which M had neglected to mention, was a high class brothel.

"Good evening Mr..." a doe eyed beauty in an exsquisitely beaded and tailored navy blue tunic said silkily as she hovered towards him.

"Bond, James Bond." Bond replied with an appreciative smile.

"Mr Bond. Please follow me...can I get you a drink?"

"Vodka Martini...shaken, not stirred." Bond said, dragging his eyes away from her shapely rear, to take in the surroundings of lush drapes and couches, off set by the contemporary large two way glass wall that overlooked the raised dance floor at one end of the room , and the spiral staircase which lead up to a mezzanine level that Bond assumed, housed the bedrooms.

Taking his seat at the long intricately carved teak bar that stretched along the back wall, Bond began to pay attention to the beautiful if a little young, women that were gliding around the "exclusive" area. Whilst he was certainly enjoying the view, Bond was anxious to make contact with Scheherazade and finalise the details for the next day. Once that was done, he could then try to begin to relax a little, whilst trying to remain the perfect gentleman as he shared a room with her. He had the horrible feeling as he casually scanned the room for cameras, that the bedrooms were the ' discreet tranquil havens of relaxation and pleasure' they were advertised as being.

"_James, do you honestly believe I am that naive, that I don't know that there won't be times...times that you...to put use the charming cliché, have to 'lie back and think of England"_ Penny had huffed crossly during their last night together before he had flown out to Batari.

Christ was it only a month ago? It suddenly felt so much longer and a surprised Bond found himself longing to be back in that protective bubble of normality that he and Penny had created for themselves in the three months since the night he had turned up on her door step.

"Mr Bond...if you will follow me...Miss Scheherazade is waiting for you." His host informed him, lightly touching his arm to drag him from his reverie.

"What? Oh...thank you." Bond said distractedly as he rose to his feet and followed her up the plush carpeted stairs.

The room, which Bond would later discover was actually the private room of Farah the 'Manager', was large housing a four poster and a plush couch comfortably, but devoid of any real decoration or as far as Bond could tell, electronic eyes and ears.

Bond was in the middle of checking the small balcony when he heard movement and the rustle of fabric behind him. Turning, he saw a woman expertly wrapped for want of a better word, in a web of multi coloured and beaded scarves moving towards him from the small door to the ensuite, which had was hidden in the wood panelling.

Stepping into the pool of dim light cast into the centre of the room by the two large lamps, she slowly removed the longer veil that had been covering her face.

"Good evening Mister Bond. I've been expecting you." She said quietly.

Whilst his eyes clearly registered the fact that it was Penny, his Penny stood before him. His mind could not fully comprehend what had been revealed to him.

"Penny?" He queried finally as he moved towards her.

" Yes James...think about it. Scheherazade told stories to save her own life. My job is to create stories, legends, that will if I do my job well enough...and I am very, very good at my job James, save your life..." Penny purred, allowing her teeth to graze his ear lobe as she spoke. She was unable to hold back the slow smile that curled her lips as she heard his sharp intake of breath and felt his hands tremble slightly as he finally allowed his hands to move.

God, what was she wearing Bond thought to himself as he drew in a deep breath of the scent that as it mixed with the scent of Penny's soft, warm skin, became truly intoxicating. His hands moved of their own accord to pull her flush against him, the wisps of material covering her curvaceous frame providing little barrier against the heat of her skin.

But after a long moment, the heat gave way to a chilling iciness in Bond, as he realised that Penny wasn't just a figment of his fevered imagination, she was actually here. Actually could be in danger, because of him.

"What the hell was M thinking, sending you...here?" Bond demanded as he stepped away from her shaking his head in an attempt to clear the cloying scent and focus.

"Er, that she needed someone who knew the country, who had contacts in the country, who could move around relatively unnoticed ." Penny said staggering back slightly from the way Bond had almost shoved her away from him.

"And do I even want to know how you obtained contacts...in a..."Bond began to say, his hands running roughly through his hair as he continued to pace.

"Brothel?..If you actually bothered to get clearance to read all of my file and not just the part you could charm out of the new girl in the personnel department...yes James, I have contacts there as well. You will see, that for almost eight years, before I was left for dead floating in Hong Kong Harbour, I was a damn good Military Intelligence officer, with tours in several countries including, Batari during BOTH its damn civil wars. Where I earned a commendation for being instrumental in taking down Colonel Jerimiah Carubi...you know, the dictator...right here in this damn building...well the old one." Penny replied icily

"Did you use the veils on him too?" Bond snarled,

He would feel the stinging blow that landed across his cheek for several days. But nowhere near as strongly as the confusing feelings of anger, guilt, pride and almost animalistic lust that overwhelmed him as he looked into her eyes whose angry flame seemed to burn even brighter thanks to the smoky and smudged make up around her eyes.

"You should have told me..." he rasped, unable to stop himself from reaching out to touch her, to hold her to him roughly by the arms and crush her almost protectively against him.

"I didn't know until yesterday afternoon." Penny replied, her tone almost as fierce, as the angry fire still burning in her eyes. "Do you honestly think that all my job entails is sitting behind a desk tapping buttons on a computer? I spend a lot of time, making dead drops of travel documents, ID's, anything that agents in the field need, to give them a fighting chance to stay alive. And I'm good James...very damn good. I haven't lost a 00 yet..." Penny said seeing in Bond's icy blue eyes, that the double meaning of her last statement was not lost on him.

"It's true that I am not physically strong enough to last for too long in the field anymore, but that has allowed me to become faster, sharper in other ways. I am careful, I do not, will not take unnecessary risks. M, the agents, they are trusting me...with their lives."

Bond didn't realise that any sound had escaped him, or that his shaking hands had released Penny's arms, until he found himself looking into her eyes, as she held his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"I am not Vesper James..."

"I may love you enough to fight, to die for you...but...I...am...not...Vesper." she repeated, punctuating the last words with brushes of her lips against his own.

"Who are you? I thought I knew but..."Bond said his tone almost desperate.

"Where it matters...in here..." Penny said dropping one hand to press it against Bond's thundering heart, "I am I will always be...your Penny. You know that, just as I know, that even if we don't end up growing old together for whatever reason...you Mr Bond, will always...be, my James."Penny said feeling her heart race as she saw Bond's eyes darken and his lip twitch at her declaration.

There was a part of Bond, that was desperate to give Penny the reassurances, that despite her declarations to the contrary over the last months he knew she wanted, she deserved to hear, but he couldn't. As she was right, there could come a time when his already over extended luck ran out, or that the strain of their lives, their careers could pull them apart. And Christ it could happen quicker than even he thought if he kept reacting the way he was doing.

How arrogant had he been to assume that he knew everything about her, her life. They had been apart for a hell of a long time and he hadn't bothered to investigate her career history both at six and before. He hadn't bothered to ask, preferring instead to enjoy the novelty and normality that the last three months had offered his jaded soul. A normality that he really did want to continue, but which M, knew would be impossible if he could not get to grips with the reality of Penny, of her life, of having someone in his life that was as far as was possible, his equal.

Who was not Vesper.

Who had seen, had done some of the things he had, who could understand him, who could and would, be able to protect him if the need arose, with more than just tragically noble gestures.

"But here, to the outside world...I am whoever I need to be, to protect myself, my agents...you...us..." Penny said quietly, but firmly.

Bond's answering kiss was hard and bruising, but she did not back away, in fact she responded with an even greater passion and need.

"I...I need you to be Scheherazade here. I...you need her strength...Penny, my Penny is at home...she is safe...she is my safety at home..." Bond breathed as he allowed his mouth to practically devour her exposed neck and his hands, to explore, discover the barely concealed curves of this mysterious woman standing before him. Because this creature, a vision in diaphanous wisps of coloured fabric was not...his Penny...not tonight.

"As you wish." She growled in a tone that caused Bond, to roughly grab her ass and lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he almost slammed her into the thankfully strong wooden post of the rooms four poster bed. It was Bond's turn to growl as after sending the buttons of his shirt bouncing across the room, Penny's nails dragged roughly along his overheated skin and beneath the waist band of his slacks.

" Oh James..." she whimpered pulling pleasurably hard on his hair as Bond took a hardened peak in his mouth through one of the long scarves of material that were crossing her ample chest and grazed it with his teeth, before swiping soothingly with his tounge.

"So...Miss Scheherazade..." Bond began, allowing his warm breath to waft over the wet material covering her sensitive peak, causing her to arch towards him with a sigh. "I would very much, like to get to know you a little better...and I think...the best way...to do this..."

Bond was forced to stop as Penny began to roll her hips against his own, reminding him, just how flimsy the barrier between him and where he wanted so desperately to be, actually was. Allowing her head to fall to his shoulder, Penny moaned softly. Whilst dressing to 'enchant her King' as Farrah, her old friend and Manager of the Exclusive area of The Casablanca bar had described it, had seemed like a good idea at the time. A real chance to show Bond one of the other sides of herself, as her body prickled and shook with the searing need James was creating in her Penny wished she could rip off the seven damn scarves that Farah had expertly wound around her body earlier that evening. Bond suckled roughly along Penny's exposed collar bone as he allowed the wet heat the friction of their entwined and constantly moving bodies was creating to consume him for a long moment.

He could have, a large part of him wanted, to take her there and then and he could see that she would not have objected, would have encouraged and responded with a passion to match his own. But the sight of her curvaceous figure enticingly hidden in these coloured scarves, the way her curtain of hair had been twisted and adorned with tiny sparkling beads, the intensity of her eyes beneath the makeup was incredibly erotic and as tortured as he felt Bond was desperate to see more.

"Is...to unwrap, one of your many layers..." he said finally as he lowered Penny onto her he noticed with pride, shaky legs.

"Where ...where would you like to start?" Penny sighed, as her hands mapped his chest.

"Surprise me..." Bond chuckled darkly.

"As you wish." Penny said again with a slow smile as she, pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You might, want to make yourself comfortable..." she remarked, indicating to Bond the head of the large bed which was covered in an inviting pile of large, soft pillows.

"If you insist." Bond replied with a slow almost carnal smile.

"Oh...I do Mister Bond...I do..." Penny replied with a brief look back over her shoulder as she moved to the centre of the large room.

If you want to tease Mister Bond, then you have picked the right girl. Penny thought as she raised her hands and gave a short clap, which caused the motion sensitive music system to burst into life.

Whilst Jude Moneypenny, might find doing something like this, especially for her James, difficult, Miss Scheherazade had no such fear. She had offered Penny a protective shell to hide behind when things were difficult and stressful in her working life. Now it was time for a little play, a much needed stress relief for both her and James.

Even if he had wanted to, James Bond doubted that he would have been physically able to drag his eyes away from the erotic yet strangely tender dance that played out before him as he reclined beneath the Egyptian cotton sheets. Scheherazade, as despite his best efforts, he could not reconcile his Penny, with the woman who was allowing her body to move gracefully, sensuously in time to the music as she slowly undid the scarves that had been expertly woven around her body. First to be removed, the long scarves wrapped around her waist, which fell with the effect of a skirt with a large split up the front.

Then came the back.

Exposing her legs and tantalising glimpsed of her rear and sex. And it was quickly followed, by the first of the two scarves covering her breasts.

Penny could feel, rather than see James' intense gaze follow her as she moved and it gave her confidence as well as inflamed the almost painful need consuming her. She was desperate to crawl up onto the big bead and let herself be consumed by the heat and need radiating from James, who was beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath the covers, but she could not resist one last tease as she let her hand trail over the exposed side of her body. This time she heard, rather than saw James' sharp intake of breath, as she allowed her head to fall back for a moment as she enjoyed the sensation.

"Come here..." James said, hoping that she could not hear the desperate pleading in his tone.

"But there is one veil left...maybe the most important one of all." She said, indicating the final scarf that actually covered more than it first appeared.

"Come here." James repeated, this time not caring that his tone was that of an order.

"As you wish Commander Bond." Penny said as she mounted the bottom of the bed and began crawling towards him, eliciting a deep moan as she brushed over a rather prominent part of him.

"But I'm afraid you won't get to see...understand all of...me..." she purred in between hot, open mouth kisses to his chest. "Until this...is...removed." she said with a slow smile as she sat astride him and waved the end of the coloured scarf towards him.

"Would you mind?" she asked innocently.

Bond did not trust himself to speak as he drank in the sight of her skin shimmering in the moonlight that was now pouring in through the blinds, catching the stones in her hair. Instead he took the proffered scarf and began to pull gently, watching fascinated, as Penny rose up on to her knees and arched her back to allow its many folds to slide from her body with a quiet rustle.

"So..this little exercise has established...that you are...a fascinatingly...complex...and incredibly...beautiful and sensuous...woman..." Bond growled lowly as he reached out to caress her torso and hips that she was holding tantalisingly just above him.

"You forgot...surprising..." Penny said softly, before with a movement Bond barely even had time to register, she slammed her wet heat around his own painfully hard arousal of need.

"Forgive me..." Bond managed to moan, gripping her roughly by the hips as he tried to regain some of his control. "But...I...am...not...a man...who...usually...likes...surprises..." he ground out, before finally giving in to the intense pleasure ripping through his body as she began to roll her hips pleasurably roughly above him, meeting his movements with those of her own, which only served to enhance the pleasure for both of them.

"Ah but James...some surprises, can be..." Penny purred a few minutes later, as she tilted forward, bracing herself on his heaving shoulders as she stilled all movement, except for that of the internal muscles that she could feel, were on the verge of sending a now panting James hurtling over the edge. "Fun."

Penny was in that place between waking and sleeping, where you are never a hundred per cent sure what is real and what is a dream, happily reliving the events of the previous night that she was certain fell into the latter category, when she felt something cold and wet, being dragged over her skin.

Penny's eyes snapped open to see a smirking bare chested James, lying on his side beside her, dragging a chilled piece of fruit from the large platter lying on the bed between them, along her bare stomach up towards her mouth.

"Good morning. I thought you might like some breakfast...I mean I don't know about you, but I am starving..."

Penny opened her mouth to respond, only to be distracted by the feel of material digging into wrists. Looking up, Penny saw that her hands had been firmly, put not painfully, tied above her head by one of her scarves.

"Hoisted by your own petard, so to speak..." James said his lips curled in the most carnal of smiles.

"James..."

"A very wise woman once told me..." James began, thoroughly enjoying the look of surprise and increasing lust flashing in Penny's eyes as the confusion of sleep cleared and she focused. Moving the fruit platter, James moved so that he was lying close to her as the piece of melon, one of her favourites, reached its destination of her mouth. He dragged the fruit across her swollen lips, quick to remove it before she could take a bite.

"That some surprises, can be...fun."

Whilst Bond enjoyed every moment of Miss Scheherazade's erotic torture, had enjoyed basking in her strength, her un restrained sensuality, there was a part of him, the vulnerable part that he loved and hated in equal measure, that took the greatest pleasure in seeing 'his Penny' appear as they joined together later that morning. It was a flash deep in the eyes, the soft whisper of his name, the hand that teased the hair at the nape of his neck. That was Penny, his Penny and Bond took a kind of strength, a sense of hope that she was right, in the fact that she, they, could really separate the people they were in the field, from the people they were and wanted to be at home.

It was a hope that was put to the test far sooner that either Bond or Penny had hoped.

Young Alima had not as James had feared been scared by the fact he had pulled a gun on her. What had shocked the young girl, was seeing not only a man in a state of undress, but a man with blonde hair and as she would tell in her friend in the breathless sigh unique to teenage girls discovering the joys of attraction to the opposite sex for the first time, 'the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen.'

It was an innocent comment passed in secretive giggly whispers to one of the other young girls that Alima knew and thought she could trust as they walked home after their long day. But as Azira, Alima's trusted confidant had learnt that night, when you are faced with a choice between loyalty to a friend and the survival of your family, there is no choice.

Desperate to try a save face with his salubrious business clients, who despite it only being a matter of hours since the arrest of the embassy staff in his employ and the less than friendly meeting between himself at Mr Leiter of the CIA, were starting to worry that he may in fact not, be the best man to arrange the unhindered transportation of their narcotics supplies. Ali Frezali had utilised his network of informants and hired muscle, to try and locate Mr. Stephen Hughes, AKA Mr. James Bond of Her Majesty's Secret Service, who had been working with the less than subtle Mr Leiter, who had made it very clear as they had sipped tea, that he was being watched and that it was only the matter of a very short amount of time, before they would be able to close down Frezali's operations for good. Leaving him at the mercy of some very angry and out of pocket clientele.

It was a sad fact, that despite a country like Batari's best efforts to safe guard the security of its tourists, accidents, random acts of brutal, bloody violence did happen. Especially to men like Mr Bond who tended to display their wealth whilst wandering in alleys of the Old Town. Where desperate men, or in this case young girls, would do anything, reveal any hidden secret, to earn the money that really could mean the difference between life and death for their medicine dependant father.

A cursory glance through the police files that he had paid so much for, had made Frezali aware, that Hari was a well connected man in the Old Town, with several businesses and many contacts. Lack of time and if he was honest, lack of real interest in what he had believed to be nothing more than a glorified market trader, had stopped him investigating further. It was a mistake, Frezali had promised himself as he had listened to Tariq's report of what he had discovered from the young girl, he would soon be rectifying.

But first, he had to make an example of Mister Bond. Show his world, that he would not stand for disrespect, loose face to anyone.

Frezali really did hope, that whichever of the whores he had been with at the Casablanca bar, had given him a final night to remember.

Bond had just emerged from the shower in the surprisingly large ensuite bathroom, when he heard a series of heavy thuds including one that if he didn't know better, sounded like it had come from a silenced gun. Wrapping a towel securely around his waist and grabbing his gun from the holster which was hanging over the shower door, Bond padded softly towards the half open door.

"Penny." He called warily.

"I'm alright." She replied. "But...he...isn't." she said, her lip curling in disgust as she none to gently kicked at the prone figure of a man that had fallen at her feet, felled by two closely grouped shots to the chest.

"I really can't abide peeping toms." Penny sighed, desperately hoping that she was achieving the nonchalant air she was aiming for.

"So I see..." Bond said dryly as he bent down and gave the man a cursory pat down. There was nothing of any interest, except of course the large calibre hand gun he was carrying.

Penny fell heavily onto the bottom of the bed, allowing her own gun to and loosely by her side. Bond quickly joined her, prying her trembling fingers away from the weapon and applying the safety.

"There really is, so much I don't know about you. Miss Scheherazade." he said, hoping that the deliberate use of the name, the persona that she explained she hid behind, drew strength from at times like this, would help her focus.

"Well where these..." Penny said raising the gun he had handed back to her. " Are concerned, I am a firm believer in that it's not the size or the amount of noise it makes, but how you use it that counts." She allowed herself a small smile in answer to Bond's smirk and hoped that he could see the silent thank you for no longer doubting but encouraging her slip behind Scheherazade's protective shield, she was trying to convey as she looked into his now tense blue eyes.

"We need to move...find somewhere else to hold up until the plane leaves." Bond said suddenly, his tone all business as he began pulling on his clothes.

"We'll have to split up." Penny called over her shoulder as she headed towards the door.

"What?"

"James, we have maybe ten minutes if that, before whoever Frezali sent with this guy realises that something is wrong." Stopping Penny came to stand before him. "Darling, as much as I'd like us to stay together... for your sake as much as anything, your Arabic is horrible..." she said with a tight smile which faded as she cupped his cheek. " Even though I know I can handle myself, it has been awhile since I have to use...extreme force...and I would have welcomed a little back up, but it's not an option. James, I need you to trust me, believe in the fact that I will be ok, that I...Miss Scheherazade, will be on that plane at four o'clock, more than ready to go home. Can...can you do that?"

_**4.10pm-Private Airfield**_

It was his own stupid fault.

She had said all the right things, convinced him with her logic, her passion, her impressive shooting. But Bond knew that he should not have left her behind in the Casablanca bar.

A scout of Farrah's had found that the bar was surrounded by four of Frezali's men, who were moving swiftly towards the bar as the time ticked by and they did not hear any screaming, or word from their colleague that the task they had been set had been completed. Bond had been lead up to the roof to make his escape, whilst Penny had remained inside, being dressed in a way that would allow her to slip relatively unnoticed into the crowds.

He should have known.

It was Venice...Vesper all over again.

He was not a man that could ever be involved, ever be loved.

It was too dangerous.

It had got Vesper and now Penny...his Penny, the one person who ever truly knew him...ever really loved him...the real James Bond...

Bond could not even bring himself to even think the word.

All he could think, was that this time, he would not get the chance to share a final moment, a final touch with the woman he loved.

"Mister Bond...we have to take off now. The security at the gate have just radioed through to say that a car belonging to Frezali has just sped through the gate.

" Start the engines...but give me five more minutes..." Bond snarled as he rose from his seat and picked up the Mach 10 he had relieved one of Frezali's men of an hour before.

It was wrong, it was unprofessional, but as he almost kicked the door of the private plane open, Bond did not care.

The Navy Blue Mercedes screeched across the tarmac at speed towards the plane. And whilst Bond could easily have stopped it with several short bursts of fire whilst it was still moving. He wanted it to stop he wanted to see who he was shooting at.

Finally, the car came skidding to a halt and the cracked tinted window nearest to Bond crept downwards.

"You're late..." Bond stammered when he managed to regain control of his thundering heart.

"I am sorry darling...traffic was terrible." Penny said with a sheepish smile as she slowly exited the car and approached him.

"I could...I almost..." James spluttered raising the gun in his hand as words failed him. "You...you..."

"I kept my promise...kind of..." Penny said wearily as she climbed the short fight of stirs towards him.

"Yes...yes you did...thank you..."James said as he cupped her face and tipped his forehead against her own, before kissing her.

"_WHAT IS THE HOLD UP ALPHA 6-7, YOU SHOULD BE IN THE AIR BY NOW?" _even through the crackle of the radio, Sellars the new young pilot M had sent to extract Bond and Miss Scheherazade, could hear the icy no nonsense tone he had been warned, could reduce a grown man to a stammering schoolboy.

"I'm sorry Ma'am..." Sellars sighed as he glanced back through the open cock pit hatch, to see an entwined Bond and Penny collapse heavily into the same seat. " It looks like we're about to experience some turbulence...I'm having to take evasive action." The young man concluded, as he firmly closed the door and tried not to imagine, what it would be like to be James Bond, even for a day.


End file.
